


Winter Holiday

by Mercury Starlight (WoolandWater)



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Gen, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Yuletide, Yuletide 2014, animate inanimate objects, decidedly canon-typical ending, love & mobsters verse, mostly gen with a couple of sex scenes, santa is kind-of a dick, sexism/rape culture (brief PUA reference/joke) (because Mike), which becomes relatively clear consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoolandWater/pseuds/Mercury%20Starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A typical (that is to say, atypical), Christmas in the Young Ones' share house. An attempt at an episode-like fic.</p><p>Also, Rick/Vyvyan. Because of course there is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HYPERFocused](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/gifts).



> Hey, it's Yuletide! Why not a Christmas fic?
> 
> While stand-alone, this takes place in the [Love & Mobsters](http://archiveofourown.org/series/117628) universe. Like pretty much everything I'll probably ever write for TYO for the end of time. XD It's really not very tied to it at all though, if you blink, you'll miss it.
> 
> L&M Timeline: December 1984

It was December 24th, and all throughout London, preparations for Christmas were kicking into high gear. Carolers practiced for their Christmas Eve run. Stores sold out of the last of the hot-ticket items. Children across the city, and indeed the country, hung up stockings and set out treats in anxious anticipation. Christmas parties raged, pantomimes played to delighted audiences, Christmas grottos welcomed their last throngs of excited families, fairy lights danced across every available surface.

Neil was trying to hang up a single, mangy string of garland along the kitchen cupboards. No one was helping him.

In fact, all Rick was doing was sitting at the kitchen table, watching him with vague disinterest and piping up with an occasional, "Higher there," and "Won't that prevent us from opening the cupboards?" and "No, that's awful, can't you do anything right?"

"Y'know Rick, you could get up and _help_ me, right? Since you've obviously got so much interest in doing it, maybe you should just do it! Not that I think you will, because nobody else does anything around here except me. I don't even know why I'm doing this at all, none of you lot cared a whit when Winter Solstice came and went last week. Did any of you add anything to my Yule log or offer me any mead or anything? No, of course you didn't, because nobody cares about me. 'Let's not bother with Neil, he only does everything around here.' None of you lot even bothered to decorate for Christmas, did you? No, it's up to me again, and all you can do is sit there and bring me down."

"Oh SHUT UP hippie, and mind the end of that garland, it's about to get into the-"

Rick's sentence was cut short by the end of the garland dipping neatly into the open flame on the stove (underneath the spiced lentil soup currently burning in a blackened pot) and going up in a flash. Neil barely had time to let go of it before the fire reached his hands. He shook the ash of what was once the garland out of his hands in surprise. Rick threw up his own hands in disgust.

"Wonderful! Well done, Neil, that was the only garland we had! How are we going to be festive now, hmm? Going to put together a little _nativity scene_ , are we? SPG could be the baby Jesus, yes? Oh, or make a _snowman_ out of _lentils_ or something? Mike!" Rick ran into the hallway, where Mike stood with the phone in one hand and a small, black, fluffy dog in the other, "Mike! Neil's ruined Christmas!"

Mike struggled with the dog in order to put his hand over the receiver and frowned at Rick, "Not _now_ , Rick, this is an important deal here!" He went back to his conversation, "Still there? Good. I'm telling you, this is high-quality merchandise. Wet nose, healthy bark, got all its legs…Pedigree? Yeah…of course it's got a pedigree, what do you take me for?" He pulled the receiver away again and mouthed, 'What's a pedigree?' at Rick. Rick shrugged. Mike waved Rick away and went back to his call, and Rick sulked his way back to the kitchen, where Neil was haphazardly attempting to sweep up the ashes of the incinerated garland with his hands. Rick watched him for a few moments before launching in, ranting at no-one in particular.

"Ugh, I don't know why I bother! Christmas is such a consumerist nightmare, we shouldn't even celebrate it in the first place. All those brain-dead bourgeoisie skittering off to the shops, spending to their heart's content. And for what? So they and their fascist children can celebrate the birth of Christ. What's to celebrate? The entire Christian religion is hopelessly outdated anyway. What's the point of the Bible? Twelve-hundred chapters and not one reference to 'We Don't Talk Anymore'. Useless! I certainly won't be-"

Rick was cut off quite suddenly by Vyvyan's kicking in the front door and dragging in something very large behind him. Something large and green, that made all sorts of jingly noises as he tugged it into the sitting room and got it upright.

"What's that, Vyvyan?" Rick demanded.

"It's a Christmas tree, bogey-bum. You _do_ know what a Christmas tree is, don't you?"

"Of course I know what a ruddy Christmas tree is! What is it doing in our house? Why does it already have ornaments on it?"

Vyvyan shrugged, "The neighbors were kind enough to decorate it for us."

"Why would they do that?" Neil looked puzzled as he threw down the handful of ash he was holding and came over to check out the tree. Vyvyan shrugged again as he dragged the tree into place and attempted to re-arrange a few of the ornaments which had either shaken loose or fallen off the tree entirely.

"Perhaps they knew I was going to steal it."

"Vyvyan!" Rick stormed over to him, "We've been over this! You can't just go into other people's houses and steal their Christmas trees, it's not conducive to a good, neighborly relationsh- Look at this! It's all mangled at the back! And this branch is much shorter than the others! Ugh, look at the ornaments at this spot. Gold spangles everywhere, talk about tacky. Couldn't you have stolen us something nicer?"

"They were the only ones not at home! Besides, it was right across the street, very convenient to my way of thinking. You ought to be thanking me! Christmas Eve and we haven't even got a tree. What were we going to put the presents under?"

"I'd _assumed_ you'd all just be _handing_ them to _me._ Where _are_ all the presents anyway?"

"They were WAITING for the TREE!"

"ALL RIGHT VYVYAN, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOUT!"

"YES I DO! IT'S THE ONLY WAY TO BE HEARD OVER YOUR LOUD, UGLY MOUTH!"

"HOW DARE YOU! I OUGHT TO-"

Vyvyan took an ornament off the tree and smashed it into Rick's forehead. Rick retaliated in kind, and they were off, smashing ornaments left and right, each trying harder to draw blood with each grind.

 _'I say_ ,' a glass star on the second-topmost branch said to the reindeer with googly eyes beside it, ' _Shame about George, isn't it?'_

' _Mmm_ ,' the reindeer said, ' _Only a few Christmases to retirement, poor bastard. Still, it's a better way to go than Agnes, isn't it?'_

The star would have shaken its head, if it had one, ' _Eaten by the dog, still can't believe it. Hell of a way to go. They really should have known better, putting a plastic sweet on the bottom branch like that. Of course the dog went for it. If it hadn't been Rover, it would have been their youngest, that's for sure._ '

 _'Ugh, Junior,'_ had the reindeer be capable, it would have shuddered, _'I'm still grateful they glued my right eye back on after that encounter. You reckon there are any little ones about 'round here?'_

But the star couldn't answer, because that was the moment Rick snatched it down to shove it into Vyvyan's shoulder. Vyvyan howled in pain before giving up on Christmas-themed weaponry altogether and simply going for Rick's throat. The two scuffled for a while, as Neil tried to salvage the ornaments they hadn't managed to break and clean up the ones they had.

Mike hung up the phone and picked up the little dog. He headed toward the door, but leaned in and looked in the general direction of the other three as he passed.

"Well boys," he said, and Rick and Vyvyan stopped fighting long enough to listen to him, "I'm off. Look if Jerry calls back, tell him the deal's off and he's a dirty bastard. Unless he's got Lars with him, then everything's going as planned. Got that?"

Rick waved him off, Vyvyan flipped him a V and Neil muttered an offhand, "yeah" into the tree. It appeared to be enough.

* * *

Mike headed out the door carrying the puppy. He was sick of always having to do everything around the house when it came to The Business. He was the leader for fuck's sake, he shouldn't have to be traipsing around trying to make a quick buck, and on Christmas Eve no less. Why, he hadn't had a Christmas this terrible since-

"Hey, don't start on that, now. This is Mike TheCoolPerson you're talking about. Mike TheCoolPerson is mysterious. Mike TheCoolPerson is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a ham sandwich. Mike TheCoolPerson does not get followed around by narrators looking into his inner thoughts. You got plenty of that in Progress and Serious, far too much already if you ask me. Go on back to the house, I've got to see a man about a dog."

Mike turned away, shaking his head, the mid-morning sun casting-

"Go on!"

* * *

Back inside, the boys were putting the finishing touches on the tree - adding gifts to its base. Neil and Rick had three presents each in their arms, and it wasn't until Rick set his down that he realized Vyvyan only had two.

"Didn't get Neil anything this year? Ha, I should have thought of that!"

"Hey!"

Vyvyan shrugged, "Nope, this one's for Neil." He held up a little box wrapped in newspaper and shook it before placing it under the tree.

"You mean you didn't get something for Mike? You can't do that, Vyvyan, it's in the house charter!" He pulled his copy from his back pocket, "And I quote, 'Mike is exempt from gift-giving, unless he feels like it. Everyone must get Mike a present for Christmas and his birthday, without exception, like even if they haven't got any hands or something.' Honestly Vyvyan, you and your clauses."

Vyvyan beamed. Rick glared at him.

"So you see, Vyvyan, you've broken the house charter!"

"No I haven't! This one's for Mike!" he placed it under the tree. He was out of presents. Rick looked at his empty hands, and then down at the tree.

"YOU DIDN'T GET ME ANYTHING?!"

"No. Why would I?"

"Because it's CHRISTMAS and it's only RIGHT considering we're-"

Vyvyan loudly cleared his throat and shot Rick a dark, warning look and Rick cast a quick glance at Neil.

"Er…we're _housemates_ and _friends_ and besides, I got _you_ something!"

"Yeah, you probably got me something you really wanted yourself so I'll give it up and you can have it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Vyvyan, that doesn't sound like me at all!"

"It sounds exactly like you, Rick," Neil said, "It's what you did last year."

"Oh SHUT UP hippie! If I wanted _your_ opinion, I'd have myself committed because I'd have clearly gone barking mad!"

Neil opened his mouth to protest, then closed it to try and parse what Rick had just said. Rick glared at Vyvyan again.

"This is an OUTRAGE! You got my list, I know it! Annotated, signed, there were explicit instructions for each of you, and each expressly stated, 'the recipient of this list _must_ select one of the items listed as a Christmas present for Rick!' I was very thorough!"

"Yes, I remember," Vyvyan sounded as if he was barely listening, busy scribbling obscene doodles on random presents with a marker, "It was beyond obnoxious. Must have misplaced it in the bin."

"FASCIST! Neil, YOU got my list, didn't you?"

"Of course I did, Rick. You stapled it to my forehead, remember?"

"Yes, well I had to make sure you didn't _misplace_ it!" he glared ever harder at Vyvyan, "You see, Vyvyan? _Neil_ got me something!"

Neil looked uncomfortable, "Well…actually Rick…"

Rick whirled on his heels, eyes blazing, "WHAT?"

Neil looked sheepish, "Well I figured you weren't going to get anything for me anyway, but I had to get Mike something, and I knew Vyvyan would probably be cross if I didn't get him anything, so for my third gift I sort-of…got one for myself instead…"

"NEIL, YOU COMPLETE BASTARD!"

"Sorry, Rick," Neil shrank back, expecting Rick to attack. Instead, Rick stared down at the tree.

"…Why are there so few presents under this tree?"

"Well, ideally there should be three or more for each of us, but," Neil peered at the gifts, "Looks as if there's three for Mike, three (well, technically two) for me, two for Vyvyan and…oh. You haven't got _any_ presents, Rick."

"…WHAT?!?!"

Rick dropped to his knees and inspected each present thoroughly. There were tags of some sort or another on each one, and indeed, none of them were for him. He leapt to his feet, face beet red, hands in fists, "Why haven't any of you gotten me anything? YOU UTTER BASTARDS! ALL OF YOU! Of all the SELFISH, SELF-CENTERED, PIGHEADED things to do! I WON'T HAVE IT! This is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE! IT'S CHRIST'S BIRTHDAY FOR CLIFF'S SAKE! SHOW SOME BLOODY RESPECT!"

As this tirade went on, Vyvyan made his way over to the fireplace, picked up the coal shovel, and headed back toward the tree. Rick didn't notice him until the shovel was a few inches from his head. He shrieked and darted away. Vyvyan went after him, screaming and brandishing the shovel.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Neil held out his hands non-threateningly, "Hey, hey guys, let's all just calm down, right? Let's not get all heavy on each other, right? It's Christmas!"

Rick and Vyvyan ignored him, struggling for control of the shovel. Vyvyan wrestled it away, tossed it aside, and grabbed the poker instead, brandishing it like a spear. Rick shrieked and sprinted up the stairs. Vyvyan went right up after him, cackling madly. Neil shook his head and began arranging presents under the tree.

Vyvyan caught up to Rick just as he reached the top of the stairs and very narrowly missed his head, putting the poker through the wall instead. He pulled it back out as Rick dove into his room, and Vyvyan dove after him. They landed on the ground just inside the doorway. Rick ended up under Vyvyan, who raised the poker ready to strike, before pausing mid-swing and staring down at Rick with an expression that didn't look, exactly, like murderous intent. Intent yes, murder no. Rick stared back, and the two froze for a moment, panting and tense. Then simultaneously, Rick grabbed Vyvyan by the shirt and pulled him down, while Vyvyan tossed the poker aside just in time for their lips to meet. They kissed just as frantically as they'd been fighting moments before. Vyvyan struggled to kick the door closed behind him without breaking contact. He finally managed it, and he pulled away long enough to reach over and set the lowest deadbolt before turning right back to Rick and claiming his mouth again, urgently. Rick broke away after a few moments.

"Finally," he said breathlessly, between kisses, "I've wanted to…get you alone…all day."

"Well," Vyvyan said, just as breathlessly, "It's not as if…we really had a…choice. Keeping up…appearances and all."

"At least…you weren't serious just now…I really thought you were…going to kill me…for a moment there."

"I was," Vyvyan abandoned Rick's mouth for his neck, "Changed my mind."

Rick groaned, half-pleasure, half-exasperation, "Fascist bastard. You should have given me someth- ah!" he Vyvyan's tongue sliding from his collarbone to his ear.

"Shut up, you girl," he whispered into Rick's ear, and Rick shuddered at the feel of the warm breath on his skin, "You've still got your head, that's plenty more gift than you deserve."

Rick rolled his eyes, but then he pulled Vyvyan closer and closed them, squirming under Vyvyan's touch, "Mmmm, shut up yourself, Vyvyan, and make yourself useful."

Vyvyan grinned and slid his hand into Rick's trousers to untuck his shirt, lingering a bit as he did so. He brushed his hand over the front of Rick's y-fronts and grinned wider when Rick gasped and shuddered. He pulled his hand out of contact, but not out of the trousers. Rick bucked up to try to make contact again, and Vyvyan squirmed away, hovering, but not touching. He giggled. Rick growled.

"Ugh, you're such a bloody tease, I hate you!"

"Not as much as I hate you," Vyvyan said softly, finally giving in and grasping Rick's cock firmly through his pants. He hummed in pleasant surprise at Rick's level of arousal. Rick moaned and gazed up at him, his expression somewhere between bliss and disdain.

"Barreling straight through foreplay, then?"

Vyvyan blinked at him, "Trying to put a fire poker through your skull wasn't foreplay? You don't seem to have minded much." He squeezed Rick's hard cock a bit, emphasizing his point. He began stroking it, lightly, slowly, through the fabric, until it was straining to escape its confines. He finally pulled away long enough to help unbutton Rick's fly and slide his trousers and y-fronts down to his thighs. He knelt next to Rick and took Rick's cock again, both gasping at the skin-to-skin contact. Rick freed Vyvyan's cock from his jeans (it seemed he'd foregone boxers that morning. He'd probably misplaced them somewhere in Rick's room last night) and stroked firmly. Vyvyan groaned in appreciation, tilting his head back.

"Augh, how did you get so bloody good at that?"

Rick grinned at him, "I've had a fair amount of practice."

"I know," Vyvyan said, responding in kind and relishing Rick's squirming, "I was there."

He bent over, eager to get Rick's cock into his mouth. He shifted over as he did so, so that Rick could continue to jerk him off. Rick did so, eagerly, as Vyvyan's lips closed around the head of his cock. The two hummed nearly simultaneously, Rick at the feel of Vyvyan's tongue running along his shaft, Vyvyan at the feel of Rick's warm, hard cock swelling at his touch. God, Rick was such a bastard, but he was such a _good fuck_ , it was difficult to resist.

It wasn't long before Rick was humping Vyvyan's mouth, moaning just quietly enough to attempt not to be heard downstairs, his cock straining for release. Vyvyan let up, and Rick looked at him, a combination of need, frustration and confusion on his face. Vyvyan sat up, Rick's hand still playing lazily with his cock. He stared at Rick.

"What?" Rick said, more confused. Vyvyan said nothing. He only watched him intently, his face an impenetrable blank. Then he took hold of Rick's cock and stroked, deliberately, firmly, with movements guaranteed to send Rick over the edge. Rick found he suddenly couldn't pull his eyes away from Vyvyan's, watching as he was watched back by Vyvyan's guarded, yet somehow intense and penetrating stare. Then he couldn't focus on anything as his orgasm hit, his vision blurring as he closed his eyes.

Vyvyan watched Rick's eyes roll back, listened to his frantic gasps, felt the rolling pulse of his cock and the warm fluid dripping down his fingers. His breath hitched, he stroked his own cock (Rick having completely abandoned the idea in his ecstasy) once, twice, three times and let loose a guttural moan that was closer to a shout as he came, _hard_ , squeezing his eyes shut and catching himself just before falling over Rick entirely. He remained there, one wet hand bracing himself on the floor, the other still holding his own cock, panting, eyes closed, for a few moments. He lifted his head and looked over at Rick, who looked back with a sleepy, satisfied expression. He took his hand away from his cock and stroked Rick's cheek with his fingertips, watching him with an expression Rick had difficulty placing, because it was on Vyvyan's face, and it was directed towards _him_ , and neither of those things fit with that particular expression at all. Then Rick watched as he quickly composed himself, sat up and then stood up, buttoning his jeans nonchalantly.

"I'd suggest cleaning up before you go back out there," he said indifferently, wiping his hands off on a discarded shirt of Rick's nearby, "You're a mess."

He walked out without another word and headed for the bathroom, leaving Rick lying bewildered on the floor.

* * *

"Guys, supper's ready!" Neil called to the others, who couldn't care less whether he'd spoken or not. "Guys?"

Rick and Mike stood over Vyvyan, who was sitting in front of the tree, a tangle of lights leading from it into his lap. He held a soldering iron in one hand, some sort of electrical box in the other, and he was fiddling with a few wires protruding from the box.

"Vyvyan, it'll never work," Rick said, exasperated.

"It will! I'll show you in a moment!"

"Vyv," Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'll give you ten points for originality, but this plan seems a bit…"

"Brilliant?" Vyvyan offered, "Genius? Innovative?"

"Suicidal."

Vyvyan shrugged, "What's Christmas if not exciting?"

"Vyvyan," Rick said as he and Mike began backing slowly away, "I think you're the only person who would classify this sort of plan as 'exciting'."

"Ha! Finished!" Vyvyan set down the soldering iron (which promptly got to work melting the carpet). He took the end of the fairy lights in one hand and the little box in the other. Rick cringed. Mike cringed while lowering his sunglasses over his eyes. Vyvyan plugged the lights into the box.

Nothing happened.

Rick and Mike visibly relaxed. Vyvyan stared blankly at the little box for a few moments.

"Ah!" he said at last. He picked up the cord coming from the other end of the box and plugged it into the wall.

Everyone screamed as the house was suddenly bathed in blindingly bright light.

"I'm blind!" Rick screeched, "My eyes! My beautiful eyes!"

Then the house went suddenly, entirely dark.

"Oh no," Neil said, "I've dropped the washing up liquid into supper."

"VYVYAN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW?" Rick demanded. He attempted to storm over to the front window, but the house was so extremely dark that he stumbled over the coffee table, again over the television, and _into_ the window instead. When he managed to get his wits about him, still hanging out the now broken window frame, he looked up and down the street; as best he could, considering it was also entirely dark.

"Fabulous Vyvyan, well done! You've ruined Christmas for the whole block!"

"Relax, spazzy-trousers, our eyes'll adjust soon enough," Vyvyan pulled Rick back through the window by his ankles and dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor. He turned around and peered into the darkness, "There now, I can already see the kitchen table!"

He headed into the darkness toward it. There was a great crash.

"Wow, Vyvyan man, you don't have to get heavy on the furniture."

"That's where you're wrong, Neil. If we want to see beyond the ends of our noses, I've got to get creative."

Vyvyan began smashing bits of the table over his knee and tossing them into the fireplace. Once he'd filled it, he began casting about for kindling. He finally settled on a tuft of Neil's hair, which he took quickly and without warning.

"OW! Hey!"

"Sacrifices must be made, Neil. Do you want to have a nice Christmas or not?"

He lit the hair with his pocket lighter and tossed it into the fireplace. The wood caught just before the hair burned away completely, and eventually the table was burning merrily. The house was finally lit once more. Rick and Mike wandered over to the kitchen.

"There," Vyvyan said as Neil rubbed his head, "A proper Christmas fire."

"Don't know what's proper about it," Neil complained, "What are we supposed to eat Christmas Eve dinner on now?"

"Not to mention whatever it is we're eating," Mike lit a cigar with the fire, "What _are_ we eating, Neil?"

"Erm," Neil glanced nervously toward the stove, "Lentil stew…with a washing up liquid finish?"

"Eugh, Neil! You're so useless, can't you even make us Christmas Eve dinner properly?"

"Sorry, Rick. It was the best I could do what with the light and the dark and everything."

"Well you started well before Vyvyan ruined the lights, didn't you? Why couldn't we have a proper Christmas goose or something?"

"You and I are vegetarians, Rick."

"Oh. Well, yes. Of course. I didn't necessarily mean _goose_ , really. Just…you know…something with a bit more class! A meal fit for Cliff Richard!"

"We might as well eat dog poo then," Vyvyan said, sneering, "I can't think of anything more fitting of Cliff bloody Richard."

"Right! I've had enough of your slander, Vyvyan! I won't have it!"

"Now now, guys, just hold on a moment," Mike spoke up suddenly, "Let's just all calm down, we've got an emergency on our hands."

"Right!" Neil said, "We've got to find a place to eat supper!"

"No, no," Mike said, "This is my last cigar!"

The four began bickering over each other, getting louder and louder. A small, Glaswegian voice came from above the fridge.

"Oi! Would you lot keep it down? It's bloody Christmas Eve!"

_'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Every creature was filthy! Why even that mouse!_

"I'm a bloody hamster, ye daft harpy! And who're ye callin' filthy? Vyv gave me a good washin' only last month!"

"Yes, but it was in petrol," Rick rolled his eyes and waved dismissively in SPG's general direction.

Neil did a double-take toward the front window, "Hang on - who _are_ you?"

It was an apt question. The boys became suddenly aware of the overstuffed armchair sitting where the sofa should be; and the plump, pink-clad woman holding the over-sized storybook and smiling sweetly at them. She proceeded to ignore them entirely and continue reading.

_The stockings were hung up, dingy and threadbare,  
Still, hope was, St. Nicholas soon would be there._

"Hey you!" Rick threw down his teacup and stormed toward her, "You! Woman! What are you doing in our house?"

"Piss off!" Vyvyan was close behind him, fists clenching and murder in his eyes.

"Yeah! We're trying to have a nice, secular Christmas Eve dinner here!" Neil helped the other two surround her. The three looked ready to pick up the chair and toss it out the window.

"Hey there, sweet-cheeks," Mike sauntered up to her, "Nice book. I've got a book I can show you. Kama Sutra, well-versed, be happy to educate you."

The woman blithely ignored them and went on.

_The housemates were squabbling, their friendship in shreds;_  
 _While visions of violence danced in their heads;_  
 _And Mike with his cigar, and Neil with his cup,_  
 _Had just settled down for a Christmas Eve sup._

"Well we would have," Neil said, "Only now you've interrupted us!"

"Your metre's horrendous you know!" Rick said, "Nobody puts the emphasis on the first syllable of cigar like that!"

A sudden crash drew all of their attention (well, all but the woman's) back to the kitchen, and the garden door beyond.

_When out in the garden arose such a clatter,_  
 _They all scurried off to see what was the matter._  
 _Away to the window they flew like a flash,_  
 _Tore off all the curtains and gave it a smash._

Indeed, Vyvyan wasted no time putting his own head through the window to investigate the noise.

"Hey look at this!" he yelled excitedly (though entirely in vain, as no one could see past his shoulders currently occupying most of the window frame), "Looks as though a sleigh and eight tiny…well, medium-sized…reindeer have just fallen off the roof! They're all in a heap out here, it's carnage!"

"Oh no!" Neil said, "Heavy! Reindeer casserole!"

"Let me see!" Rick tried to wrestle Vyvyan away from the window, pulling at his shoulders. Eventually Vyvyan turned around, ready to shove Rick away.

_As Vyv drew in his head and was turning around,_  
 _Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound._  
 _He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot-_

"Wait a moment…no he isn't," Neil peered over at the fireplace, where indeed a bearded man in a soot-covered red suit was suddenly standing, "That looks like cotton…or maybe polyester…"

"Ho ho ho! It's a cotton/polyester blend!"

"Wow!" Neil approached him, "Father Christmas, in our sitting room!"

"O ho, no no no, call me Santa Claus, Neil my boy."

Vyvyan eyed him suspiciously, "Isn't it the same thing?"

"Why no! We're quite different, in fact! Well, we _were_ , anyway! Ho ho ho!"

Rick blinked, "Er…were?"

"Father Christmas has been horning in on my territory for years! I tried to buy him out, but he wouldn't take the payoff! He's been six feet under for a good few decades! Ho ho ho!"

Mike looked at him with a combination of confusion and awe, "You telling me you bumped off Father Christmas?"

"Oh no, no, no, my lad. I'd never do that - I'm Santa Claus! Why dirty your own hands when you have unlimited, free elf labor?"

"Excuse me!" The woman demanded from her armchair, "I'm attempting to perform a bit of holiday verse here!"

Vyvyan stormed toward her, "But nobody asked you to! We told you to shove off, didn't we?"

"Well, I never!"

"Well perhaps you should!" he picked up the chair, with the woman in it, and headed for the front door, the woman squealing and kicking the whole way. The other three looked on as Vyvyan kicked the front door open, tossed the chair (with the protesting woman still in it) into the street, and slammed the door. He came to join the others just as Santa finished unpacking his sack.

"Now then, with that out of the way, let's get down to business," Santa said, "I'm on a tight schedule, so let's get this over with! Ho ho ho!" He handed gifts all 'round, and they all tore into them at once.

Mike held the book his present contained out in front of him and read the cover with interest.

" _The Art of Manipulation: 1001 Ways to Trick Her Into Bed_ ," he read, "Hey! This could be useful!" He glanced around, "For a buddy of mine…difficulty with the birds…Thanks!" He began flipping through it.

Vyvyan played with his new toy excitedly, "A genuine Butcher-to-Sculpter™ Swiss army scalpel! Brilliant! I can't wait to try this out!" He turned toward Rick with a grin. Rick jumped and bolted.

"Oh wow!" Neil said, "A tarot deck! 'Hallucinatory Mushrooms Around the World' what a groovy theme!"

Rick was too busy being chased around the house to comment on his 'The People's Poet' monogrammed stationary set.

Santa watched them a moment, a twinkle in his eye. Then he cleared his throat rather loudly, and all activity stopped.

"One more thing gentlemen…I'm totally kidding!"

All the gifts suddenly vanished from their recipient's hands and Santa's pack appeared full again, "Why would I bring any of you losers anything? Individually you're already on my naughty list, combined you're one of the naughtiest houses in London! But it's been a long night, and I needed a good laugh! Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho ho ho!"

His booming laugh followed him all the way back up the chimney. They watched him vanish in shock, and stared at each other a while.

"Hang on a moment!" Neil said suddenly, "What did _I_ do?"

* * *

 The morning finally arrived, and the four half-heartedly made their way down to the tree to open their meager presents. They were shocked to find more under the tree than they'd expected.

"It looks as if Santa's had a change of heart, guys!" Neil said excitedly, picking up his tarot deck, "He's left gifts for us after all!"

Indeed, all the presents from the night before were there, even Rick's, which he took with a strange combination of smugness and disappointment, it being the _only_ gift addressed to him under the tree.

"Well then, let's get to it!" Vyvyan began tearing presents open at random.

"Uh, Vyv," Neil tapped him on the shoulder, "I think we're supposed to open our _own_ gifts."

"Oh yeah," Vyvyan said, and tossed the half-open gift in Neil's direction, "That one's yours I think."

"Great, thanks Vyv!" Neil opened it the rest of the way. "Oh," he said, unenthusiastically, "Thanks, Rick."

Rick smiled a snide, insincere smile at him, "Don't you like it, Neil?"

"Well, I suppose, it's only…I don't have much use for a Cliff Richard poster."

"Oh, well I suppose I'll just take it back then," Rick said quickly, as he snatched it out of his hands and rushed upstairs before Neil could say anything further.

"Wasn't that the same gift he gave you last year?" Mike asked.

Neil shrugged, "I think it's the same one he's had on his wall since he moved in."

"Ah, that would explain why it looks familiar," Mike said, "He's reached a new low, hasn't he?"

"He'll be stealing others' gifts come next year," Vyvyan said, reaching for another gift. He opened it, stared at it blankly for a moment, and sighed. "A Cliff Richard memorial pin. I expect he'll be wanting this back as well. I'll be sure to give it to him when he gets back."

"Give what to me?" Rick said, coming downstairs.

"This," Vyvyan held up the pin, "Come here so I can stick it up your spotty, ugly bottom!" He headed toward Rick, murder in his eyes.

"Er…no thank you, Vyvyan," Rick began backing away, "I think you can keep it after all!" He ran, Vyvyan followed. He chased Rick around the house awhile before Mike spoke up and they froze.

"Pardon me, gentlemen, but there's the little matter of _my_ gift."

"Oh! Sorry Mike," Rick rushed over to him, nearly falling over himself to get to the gift-wrapped letter sitting front and center under the tree. Vyvyan was close on his heels, and they dove for it at the same time.

"I WANT TO READ IT TO HIM!" Vyvyan yelled, "I WROTE IT!"

"YOU WRITE IT EVERY YEAR, VYVYAN! IT'S _MY TURN_ TO READ IT TO HIM!"

"Look, somebody read it already," Mike said, exasperated, "I haven't got all day. You never know, I could have a date."

Vyvyan managed to snatch it out of Rick's hands without tearing it, and opened it surprisingly carefully. He held it aloft, as though it were a grand announcement.

"Ahem! 'On this most momentous day, we the undersigned gather here to reaffirm our undying devotion to Mike, our illustrious leader, out of the goodness of our hearts, and in accordance with the bylaws of the house charter, chapter four, section two. In keeping with the bylaws of the house charter, chapter four, section one, we now present to Mike our annual gifts of tribute. May he continue to grace us with his magnificent presence for another year. Signed, Vyvyan, Rick and Neil.' Oh, and uh, here Mike." Vyvyan handed him the £60 included in the envelope.

Neil leaned over to Rick, "Isn't the language a bit more flowery than in years past," he whispered.

"Yes well," Rick whispered back, "Mike helped Vyvyan write it again this year."

"Oh," Neil nodded.

The three picked up their gifts for Mike and gave them to him in turn.

"Ah! You remembered my favorite label! Good on you, Vyv," Mike said, holding the bottle of scotch up to the light. Vyvyan beamed.

"Hey Neil, good man," Mike took one of the cigars from the box and lit it, "I only just ran out."

Mike opened the last gift with trepidation, and stared at it disappointedly for a moment, "Now look Rick. This tie…" he paused and inspected it more carefully, "…isn't half bad, actually. You put some thought into it this year! Well done."

Rick sneered a satisfied grin at the other two, and Vyvyan knocked his feet out from under him. Then he handed Neil a gift, just as Neil handed him one. They each opened them and smiled.

Neil examined his new glass pipe, "Wow, thanks Vyv! Wait till I show this to Warlock, he's gonna' freak! We can christen it with the new stuff I've been growing!"

"Not bad, Neil," Vyvyan said, opening his new piercing polishing kit, "I've been meaning to have a go at the septum piercing, it's getting a bit rusty."

"Oh wow," Neil said, opening the present he'd wrapped for himself, "A new astral calendar! Thank you, me! I really appreciate it!"

Rick looked around despondently from the floor. His eyes fell on a single box still under the tree.

"Hello," he said, scooting over to it and inspecting it, "What's this? It hasn't got a tag."

"Well then open it and find out," Mike said. The four gathered around to see what was inside the box.

"Oh!" Neil said with surprise, "It's Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground!"

"Well boys," Mike said, when the band had finished, "I'm going to read my new book. Er, my friend's book. For my friend." He escaped upstairs before anyone could question him.

Vyvyan looked into the box again, "Huh," he said, mildly surprised, "it's empty. That was quick, their roadies must be professionals."

"Well that's very nice," Rick said, "But I still haven't got any ruddy presents!"

"You've got one right there, dim-drawers," Vyvyan gestured to Rick's gift from Santa. Rick rolled his eyes.

"That _barely_ counts! I've got one! ONE! That's hardly the respect an artist of my caliber deserves! This is the WORST Christmas I've EVER had! EVER!"

"SHUT UP! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOUR BLOODY MOUTH ON BLOODY CHRISTMAS!"

"Oh, annoyed by me, are you Vyvyan? Well what are you going to do about it, hmm? WHAT? TELL ME, VYVYAN, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?"

"I'M GOING TO SHUT YOU UP!" Vyvyan picked up the coal shovel and wasted no time knocking Rick out with it this time.

"Hey, Vyvyan man, that was really uncool-" Neil began, but he was cut off by Vyvyan's knocking him out as well.

* * *

Rick woke with a start. He was disoriented for a moment before he realized he was in his own bed. He was, in fact, _tied_ to his own bed, by his wrists. Face down. Naked. He put two-and-two together.

"Vyvyan?"

"Finally awake are you?" Vyvyan was behind him, and he couldn't quite crane around to see him, "Good. I was getting bored."

"What's going on?"

"What does it look like? I decided to give you a present after all," Vyvyan's voice was low and brimming with lust, "but I couldn't exactly give it to you passed out, now could I?"

"How considerate of you," Rick said, deadpan, "To think, I was almost asked."

"D'you want me to untie you then?"

Rick knew Vyvyan _would_ untie him, if he asked. In all their odd interactions since they'd begun sleeping together, he'd never once even tried to make Rick do anything he didn't want to (sexually at any rate). Still, Rick thought maybe he'd make Vyvyan work for it, and he made a non-committal noise that turned into a whine of pleasure as Vyvyan began massaging his back.

"No…it's only…I wasn't expecting it. You seemed more angry than…"

"Still am," Vyvyan said, putting a bit more muscle into the massage, "You're a spoiled, selfish twat and the most irritating bastard I know."

"Oh, _well_ , it's so nice to be _appreciated_. If I'm so awful, why do you sleep with me at all?"

Vyvyan lowered himself onto Rick's back and Rick realized he was similarly naked. He kissed the back of Rick's neck a few times, making his way over to Rick's ear, "Why do you think? I've got to get my frustrations out somehow, haven't I?"

Rick shivered as a warmth spread from his belly, throughout his body. Vyvyan pulled away for a moment and Rick made a disappointed noise. He jumped again as Vyvyan's hands suddenly reappeared, cold and slick against his ass.

Rick smiled to himself before remembering he was supposed to be outraged, "So you knock me out and drag me upstairs like a neanderthal so you can restrain and insult me? That's so…like you…" he trailed off as Vyvyan fingered him, teasing him open, slowly reaching toward that sweet, sweet spot. Rick backed against Vyvyan's hand, and Vyvyan took the opportunity to reach underneath him and stroke with his other hand. Rick was already quite hard.

"No complaints," Vyvyan said, "You didn't complain the last time I tied you up."

"Mmph, no, I suppose I didn't," Rick was drifting in a pleasant fog, and this comment was more reflex than rational thought.

"And _that_ one didn't even _start out_ as sex, so really, this is a step up."

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but he only managed to release a gasp as Vyvyan pulled away just long enough to replace the fingers in Rick's ass with his cock. He nudged slowly against Rick, and Rick bucked up to meet him - Vyvyan had thankfully left his legs free.

"Oh god, yes," Rick whispered, and Vyvyan smiled. Whenever Rick dropped the 'Cliff' bollocks, it was always a sign Vyvyan had managed to get to him, to the genuine him. There'd be no more half-arsed protests from Rick. His grin faded into concentrated pleasure as he slid deeper in, gripping at Rick's hips. Slowly, agonizingly, he bottomed out and a whimper escaped his throat at the feeling of the tight warmth wrapped around him. Rick whimpered along with him, humming in pleasure and moving against him, straining against his wrist restraints. Vyvyan grinned.

"Better than a blowjob tied to a chair, isn't it?" He smiled at the memory of the last time he'd tied Rick up. Then his cock swelled at the memory and he let out a low moan as he began pulling out again, just as slowly, only to push in again, steadily increasing his speed.

"Unnngh, how would _you_ know?" Rick had never managed to tie Vyvyan to _anything_ , let alone take the opportunity to have a little fun.

"I wouldn't. I guessed."

Rick didn't respond, the pleasure having finally shut his mouth, save for the little whines at the end of each exhale. Each of these came with a pleasing tightening of Rick's ass, and Vyvyan reached around to jerk him off again, grinning at the way Rick's cock pulsed with every thrust. He lost himself in the feeling a while, until he felt the telltale signs of Rick's imminent orgasm.

"Mmmmyes, fuck me you bastard, FUCK ME! YES! VYVYAN!"

Vyvyan bottomed out inside him again and stayed there. Rick clamped down hard on Vyvyan's cock as he came, and he pulled Vyvyan along with him.

"Aaahhh, god! Fuck!"

Vyvyan clung to Rick as he came inside him, and clung still as he came down, riding the high into a faded, pleasant fuzz. He pulled out slowly, considerately. Just as considerately, he untied Rick's wrists and checked them for cuts or bruising. There were neither, and he pulled Rick in for a series of slow, deep kisses. Eventually he lay back and gathered Rick in his arms, sighing in comfort. Rick lay his head on Vyvyan's chest and looked dreamily out the window, not really looking at all.

"Happy Christmas, you poof," Vyvyan muttered, and Rick smiled.

"Happy Christmas, Vyvyan. I liked my present after all."

Vyvyan grunted and said nothing.

"Oh look," Rick said sleepily, "It's snowing. What a lovely Christmas morning."

"Hmm," Vyvyan sounded as though he was barely listening. Then he frowned, "It's _snowing_? I realize films and television have rather confused the point, but when was the last time you saw snow in _London_?"

"I…hm," Rick looked puzzled, "Now that you mention it…never. Still it's snowing, just look."

"Huh," Vyvyan said, watching the snowflakes drift past the window, "So it is."

And the giant snowball that had been hurtling toward the house finally landed with a loud, wet thud, blanketing the house entirely in an enormous mound of snow.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Aw, don't worry, they're fine. The house'll be right as rain tomorrow.
> 
> The video is a live recording of "Hey Momma" by Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground. I do not own, and am not affiliated with, anything to do with the song whatsoever, and did not receive permission to post it into this fic. However, since it's only streaming from YouTube, I thought it an acceptable line to cross. Besides, hey! Obscure musical guest! Just like the old days!


End file.
